


Loudmouth

by sirius



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius/pseuds/sirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written in 2007 and contains explicit sexual content.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Loudmouth

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2007 and contains explicit sexual content.

“Pika pika?”

Of all the things that Kame enjoys waking up to, “pika pika?” is not one of them. To be really honest, the only thing Kame enjoys waking up to is sunshine, and the bright yellow top that Jin is wearing whilst bouncing on his bed definitely doesn't count. He pulls the duvet over his head, cursing all of the times he's dragged blankets off Jin, dragged Jin forcibly out of bed to get him up. Jin is good at revenge.

“Piiiika,” Jin whines mournfully, poking Kame in the head. Kame growls at him. 

This has been happening all week. Kame doesn't know how Jin keeps getting into his room. He's threatened the other members of the band with extra-tricky dance routines if they act as accomplice to Jin's sneaking, but he suspects that Jin does pretty well without their help. It's the one thing he seems to be really good at. He'd make an excellent cat-burglar.

He's a terrible alarm clock.

“Jin,” he groans. “Go away.”

“It's morning.” Jin says plaintively. “On our day off. You're going to spend the day asleep.”

“I was intending to.”

“That's boring. We're going to go somewhere.”

“Nngh,” Kame says, burying his head in the pillow. “Have fun.”

“You will.” Jin says. Kame can hear the revenge in his voice. “We're going to Disneyland.”

“I'm not going to Disneyland,” Kame says. “But I'm sure you'll enjoy it.”

“Yes, you are.” Jin says. “It's okay, you don't have to pretend you're not excited. I'm excited, too.”

Kame pokes his head out from underneath the covers and looks at Jin. Who smiles winningly. “No,” Kame says, beginning his assault early.

“Yes.” Jin says, beaming.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Jin-”

“Kame?”

“Why...what. Why are you wearing a Pikachu hood?”

“I'm getting into the spirit of the day.”

“Pikachu isn't Disney, Jin.”

“It isn't?”

“No. Disney is American,” Kame says American like 'diseased'. “Pikachu is Japanese. We made Pikachu. Disney...invaded us.”

“I like Disney,” Jin says. “We're going to Disneyland.”

“Jin, no-”

“Kamenashi Kazuya, I choose you!”

“ _Jin_.”

“What? Work with me here.”

“I am not-”

“I'm sad,” Jin says. “It'll make me happier if you go to Disneyland with me.”

“Why are you sad?” Kame eyes him. He doesn't look sad. He looks like Jin. Only yellower and strangely cute. 

“You don't want to be my friend-”

“Oh, fuck, no, here we go...alright, _alright_ , but I'm not staying all day. Okay?”

Jin goes back to beaming. “Okay,” he says, smirking. Jin likes to win. He climbs off the bed and makes for the door, chuckling to himself. “The pair from Team Rocket soar through the galaxy!”

Kame retreats back under the duvet. “No,” he says. “No. No. No.”

“Yes,” Jin says, cheerfully. “Nya-nte na!”

 

Disneyland doesn't agree with Kame. Koki keeps exchanging looks with him, looks that say 'just humour him'. Him being Jin, naturally. Light and embarrassment of Kame's life. Kame doesn't want to think about how things are going to be if they ever debut. They can get away with wandering around inconspicuously now, not a single person nearby aware that a five-year strong boyband is among them. The future might be different. Kame hopes that it will. He also hopes that he can burn that hoodie-top before it happens.

Jin is carrying an enormous lobster when he returns from one of the turret-adorned shops. Kame doesn't ask. Koki promptly removes it from him to have a look. Jin lets him take it because it's Koki, and despite appearances, Koki is mostly willing to watch Disney with Jin. He's even admitted to enjoying a couple of them. 

“Sebastian,” Jin says, as if it's actually important to Kame. 

Kame looks at him. “Why have you bought a giant stuffed lobster?”

“It's cute,” Jin says. “Maybe my brother would like it.”

Koki begins to hum 'Under The Sea'. Kame knows what's coming, so he turns to Nakamaru and looks at him with a warning expression. Nakamaru holds his hands up. “I wasn't gonna.”

“Life is better, down where it's wetter.” Jin says. 

Kame looks at him. “Please tell me that's a line from the song.”

Taking the lobster back from Koki, Jin just smirks. “Would it ever not be?”

Ueda looks at the colour of the lobster, then at Kame's face. Kame decides that tonight, he's going to kill the whole band. Possibly by smothering them with Sebastian. 

Eventually, Jin's feet get tired and Kame gets fed up of the blazing, colourful nonsense of it all, so they stop and get something to drink. Kame's face, he thinks, must say it all, because Jin yawns and says simply,

“We can do something you want to do afterwards.”

Kame thinks about this and opens his mouth to speak.

“As long as it isn't an art gallery,” Jin continues. “Anything but that.”

Kame frowns, and opens his mouth again.

“Or a museum.” Nakamaru juts in. “I don't want to go to a museum.”

Kame glares at him. 

“Or a library,” Ueda says, with a small smirk. 

“Why would I want to go to the library?” Kame splutters. “I'm not that unimaginative.”

Koki is sucking on a straw, watching with amusement. Kame asks him if he hasn't anything to add. He shrugs, sits up and says, cheerfully. “I'm not going train-spotting with you again, that's for sure.”

Jin bursts out laughing and Kame kicks him under the table. “We could go and do karaoke,” he says. “It'd be practice...”

Everyone snorts.

“...And fun. Fun, you bastards. Come on.”

Jin looks thoughtful. “Okay. I like karaoke.” He nods. “We should do what you want to do next.”

 

What Kame wanted to do next was not to be sitting in a very small booth, with a lot of very large bottles of beer, and three overexcited schoolgirls. This is one of the things he won't miss, if the band gets a debut. It's all Koki's fault, for picking up the girls – Koki seems to be proficient at accumulating people. They're sitting with Jin, chatting about the sort of thing Jin likes to talk about, which is never the sort of thing Kame likes to talk about. Jin and Kame don't have many deep conversations. Jin is very busy having a deep conversation about hair dye. Ueda is singing what sounds like 'Mizerable' and nobody is paying attention. Presumably, given the look on his face, this is making Ueda very mizerable indeed.

Koki is swigging from his beer bottle and talking to Nakamaru about something that he punctuates with loud, grating noises, so Kame tries not to listen. Instead, he talks to Junno, who is peacefully watching Ueda and pretending that they are all not stuck inside a small box with overexcited schoolgirls. Kame wishes he had that sort of dedication. Junno comments that it's easy to listen to Ueda when Ueda sings, which Kame agrees with, but at the same time, Gackt probably never had to put up with squeaking schoolgirls whilst recording the real Mizerable. Ueda seems to be considering the same thing. 

After Ueda's turn, it's Kame's. It's always dangerous for him, picking a song, as Jin likes to mock his taste and once Jin starts, everyone else joins in. The schoolgirls are watching him with interest and one of them has her hand on Jin's knee. He removes it gently at Kame's firm look. 

“It's the red hair,” he says. “The girls like the red hair.”

Kame considers what to sing. He ignores Jin's comment about his hair because Jin as a redhead is, indeed, an improvement on the platinum blonde of last year. When he first saw it, it reminded him briefly on an old flame, who dyed her hair red whenever she was feeling down, to cheer herself up. When she was cheered, she tended to want sex. Jin having red hair is, therefore, a problem Kame chooses to ignore. 

“Do they have Like A Virgin?” Jin teases, a big smirk on his face. 

Koki snorts into his beer. Ueda rolls his eyes and leans in to Kame.

“Sing Secret Garden.”

“I don't like Secret Garden,” Kame says. Ueda looks mildly affronted. 

Eventually, as per usual, Jin gets impatient and steals the microphone. “I have a song,” he says, by way of explanation. “You can go next, when you've decided on a good reason not to be touched for the very first time.”

Kame glowers at him. “What are you singing, then? If I have to sing Madonna, so should you.”

Koki nods his agreement. “Yeah, Jin. You gotta take as good as you give.”

Jin considers this. “Okay,” he says, smiling. Kame narrows his eyes. His repertoire of Madonna songs doesn't extend very far. Seeing Jin smiling like that isn't a good sign. 

“Give it up,” Jin whispers. “do as I say.”

Ueda looks at Koki, who looks at Kame. Who looks at Jin. The schoolgirls have eyes as wide as their legs are apart. Kame cringes. 

“Give it up, and let me have my way.”

“Jin,” Kame says. “This _isn't_ Madonna.”

“I'll give you love,” Jin sings, smirking at Kame. “I'll hit you like a truck.”

“Jin is cheating,” Ueda says, mournfully.

“I wanted to hear him sing Material Girl.” Koki agrees, pouting. 

“I'll give you love,” Jin continues, flicking his hips out at Kame. “I'll teach you how to-. Erotic. Erotic, put your hands all over my...”

Koki, bottle at his lips, explodes like a water fountain. Kame is pleased for it because it gives him an excuse to dart out of his seat and find some tissues. Jin stops, amused by the disaster he's created, and high-fives Ueda. 

The schoolgirls suddenly aren't so amused, and the six of them head dutifully home. 

 

“Jin,” Kame says, when everyone else heads for Koki's room to watch baseball. “You can't...I can't. Behave like that in public. We can't.”

Jin slouches into the room, his yellow hood pulled almost over his eyes. “It was a joke,” he says amiably. “Don't you like jokes?”

“Not...those sort of jokes.”

“Okay.” He says. “I won't do it again. I'm sorry.”

Kame nods, content to leave it there, and clears away some of last night's takeaway boxes. 

“Your face, though,” Jin says, beginning to laugh. Kame turns on him, eyes narrowed. It only makes Jin worse, as any kind of disapproval does, and the sight of his face creasing up eventually makes Kame laugh, too. 

“I don't care what my face looked like!” he says, through laughing. “You can't just do that in public! Jesus. We're going to debut, Jin, if we're lucky. And then we have our reputations to consider. You know? You have to be responsible, and...” 

It's like punishing Pikachu. “...can you take that off. I can't take it seriously.”

Jin lifts the hood clear of his face, and Kame gawks. “What is that.”

“It's lip gloss.” Jin grins. “One of the girls gave it to me.”

“Yes, but. Why. Are. Why are you wearing it? It's for girls.”

“My lips were dry.”

“Jin, it's bright red.”

“So?”

“You...can't wear bright red lip gloss.”

Kame's ex wore bright red lip gloss, too. Occasionally, she'd wear it as she stretched her mouth around-- but he can't, won't, think about that. 

“I can if my lips are dry. Chapped lips aren't good for our image.” Jin smirks, knowing he has one over on Kame. Kame purses his own lips, folds his own arms, and sighs. 

“Just. Get rid of it before tomorrow. I don't think it's going to catch on.”

Jin tosses his thick, red hair over his shoulder and pouts his big, full red lips and Kame is so overtaken, in that moment, by lust he almost needs to put a hand on the kitchen bench to steady himself. Jin's attractiveness, mostly, is easy for him to push to the back of his mind. It doesn't matter that Jin has hips with some sort of gravitational orbit fixed on Kame. It doesn't matter that Jin is casual and warm and sexy. It doesn't matter that in all their years of closeness, Kame has considered kissing Jin a dozen times. It doesn't even matter than Kame hasn't had sex in over a year. None of it matters because Kame has the self-control of a monk and he can ignore it all because he has a goal. An ambition. Only, when Jin turns up looking exactly like the last time Kame had sex, Kame's resolve goes out the window. 

“What's the matter?” Jin says. The Pikachu hood has fallen over his eyes again. His eyes are dark and his hair is in tendrils and he's peeking at Kame and if Kame didn't know better, he'd swear there was something in the look.

“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing.”

“It bothered you so much that I danced for you?”

“You didn't...you were joking.”

“I like to dance for you,” Jin says, shrugging congenially. “I like you. You know that.”

Kame swallows. “I know that. We've talked about it, Jin. It's not...we can't.”

“Even if I'm red-headed and I have lip gloss on?”

“What?”

“She had red hair and lip gloss. I have red hair and lip gloss. So we can.”

“That...doesn't make sense, Jin.”

“You fucked her into my wall, it was that loud. You can fuck me. If you fucked her.”

“It isn't the same. You know,” Kame lowers his voice, tugging Jin by the shirt closer. “You know that it isn't the same.”

Jin looks at him, eyes serious, mouth red. “It wouldn't change anything.”

“It wouldn't, huh?” Kame counters, braver than he feels. 

“No more than both of us wanting and not touching changes things.”

“You think it'll make it easier.”

“Maybe,” Jin says. “I figure it's worth a try.”

“You could sweet-talk a nun into having sex with you,” Kame say, a chuckle in his throat that never makes it. 

“Is that a 'yes'?” Jin says. His eyes are bright. 

Kame looks at him, and sighs. “No, Jin. I can't. We _can't_.”

Jin looks at him, the light fading, and then he turns and leaves the room.

 

It's the middle of the night when Kame wakes up, realising that he's an idiot. It could all be so easy. He hasn't had sex in a year and Jin's offering, and it's _Jin_ , it's safe, it'd be fine. Jin's safer than some girl in a bar, some groupie in a club. Jin's what Kame's wanted for months. He wakes up with a raging hard-on, and it does his thinking for him. It can't do the walking, though, and so he has to push himself to creep to Jin's door. Everything is dark. He can hear Nakamaru snoring. The sound of the faint music Ueda sleeps to, coming out from underneath his door. Jin's light isn't on. He knocks, anyway. 

It takes a few knocks. Jin is a heavy sleeper and when he opens the door, he's tousled and half-dreaming. His eyes are very sleepy and he yawns at Kame. Kame waits for him to finish his yawn and then he pushes him inside the room and closes the door behind them. Jin's eyes are dark, his curtains are open. Kame can just make him out. He presses into him and catches his face between his palms. “It's worth a try,” he says. 

Jin nods, managing once before he presses his lips to Kame's, nnnffing into his mouth. It's all the encouragement Kame needs. He can feel the warmth beneath Jin's clothes, his body, the hips that even now lean towards him. Jin is hungry. He can taste it on his mouth, feel it on his skin. The kiss seems to go on forever and when it gets too rough, they break apart. Jin is shrugging his pyjama bottoms down and Kame walks him up to the bed, topples them both down on it. Jin yanks his t-shirt and half his hair follicles over Kame's head and throws it somewhere. His whole body moves up, an undulation in the hips, his eyes lidded and his mouth parted. 

“Do you have,” Kame says, feeling idiotic. He can't see why Jin would have. But Jin's nodding, so he must have. 

“You've done this before,” Kame says. Jin nods, just once, and then he's shifting.

“Box under the bed,” he says, rubbing Kame's back. Kame leans over and takes a handful of what his hand touches. There's condoms and sticky tubes and he looks, in the dim light, at the assortment of products and realises that he hasn't a clue where to start. Then, Jin knocks everything onto the bed and puts Kame's hand on his cock, which seems as good a place to start as any. Jin tilts his head back and makes a small cry, which electrocutes Kame's ego. Jin tilts his head back and reaches one hand up to Kame's groin, which electrocutes Kame's spine. “ _Fuck_ ,” he spits out. “ _Yes_.”

One of Jin's many talents, Kame has always known, is multitasking. He's just not seen anything like Jin wanking him with one hand and prepping himself with the other. He watches through lidded eyes, fascinated and trying to fight off how good it feels. It soon overtakes him and so he swats Jin's hand away and lubes his fingers. 

“Go slow,” Jin says, needlessly, and Kame looks at him hard. Which makes Jin giggle. Kame, first-knuckle-deep, says very seriously, “Don't do that when I'm...you know. Please.”

“Okay,” Jin says. Then, “nngh. There. There's good. Just...wiggle, oh, _fuck_.”

Kame starts, surprised. Jin's eyes are clamped shut, his fingers clenched around the pillow. His mouth is hanging open. Kame wriggles his fingers a bit, and Jin flexes his hips, pleased and greedy. 

“I'm good,” he stutters, struggling to open his eyes. “Now, please. Please.”

Kame doesn't, surprisingly, need asking twice, but his confusion is obvious. Jin sits up, easily toppling him onto his back. Then, he clambers onto his thighs, then shifts forward, rocks back. Kame hisses, biting on the back of his knuckles, the friction tight, human, hot. It's all he can do not to cry out, as Jin slowly lowers himself down. He makes a series of animal sounds, all of which he filters through his hands as much as he can. It's desperately tight and he's desperately close, and it'd be much easier if Jin didn't look so terribly, terribly good from this angle. He opens his eyes to tell him as much, and then the shard of light makes it clear that Jin is still wearing the hoodie. He's forgotten to take it off.

He opens his mouth to point it out, and then closes it. He isn't sure why and his brain isn't working enough to do that for him. So he keeps his mouth shut and tries to keep his hips flat on the bed. Jin is breathing through his nostrils and full to the hilt, eyes closed, lips quirking with discomfort. Kame strokes one of his thighs, thinking of every unpleasant experience he's ever had to quench the selfish urge to thrust. Eventually, after which Kame thinks he's gone through every one of the sexless 365 days of the last year, Jin undulates. Just once, the tremor passing through his body like a tease, testing the water. Kame cries out, scratching one of Jin's hips.

“Sorry, I'm, fu-”, he begins, but Jin's face tells him it isn't necessary. So when Jin pushes down again, Kame scratches him deliberately and Jin whimpers a reward. They continue the charade until Kame can't take it anymore, and Jin speeds up, tilting his head back so that his hair is thick on his shoulders, beginning to coil with sweat. His every move is punctuated with the sound of exhaled breath and moan, small 'Kame's coming out thick with breath, thick with spit, thick with lust. Kame holds his hips, feels the pleasure running through him in tiny shocks. He scratches his back. He scratches his thighs. He leans up and kisses Jin as Jin lets go, beginning the descent into clumsy, hard, boyish thrusts, the type of which Kame remembers from being fifteen. It's enough, more than enough, as Jin throws his body back for a better angle and begins to pant, begins to cry out, again and again and again.

Kame catches him around the hips, looks at the body spread out in front of him, at the eyes masked with fabric, at the mouth wet with desire. He pushes upwards, tipping Jin awkwardly onto his back and apologizing for it by biting him on the collarbone. Jin wraps his legs around his back and tugs his hair, as much a reproof as a warning. 

“Kame,” he chokes, “Kame, fuck, please, just...there. There. There.”

It's the angle Jin wants and the speed Kame wants, and the combination works so hard and so fast that Kame doesn't see it coming. He wants to savour every moment of it but he can't, because it's too good to savour and so he just clings to Jin and lets the feeling wash over him until he feels the tension in Jin's body and he knows, he knows that that's it. Then everything behind his eyes explodes into colour and he realises, too late, that Jin has hold of both of his hands. He yells, the product of a year, the product of more than a year, of repression and quiet, quiet need. And Jin's eyes wash over him, wash over this side of Kame he's not seen before and his whole body goes tight. If the yell didn't wake the house, Kame thinks, Jin's scream certainly did. It's deafening, moreso than when they're on stage and Kame has to shove Jin away from him because it's always in his damn ears. Moreso than anything Kame's ever heard, but he doesn't care. He can't possibly, in this lifetime, care. Jin is clinging to him and sweating on him and gasping on him and he wants to come twice, wishes he could come twice, or a hundred times, because every time he opens his eyes he wants to come again.

Jin breathes, heavily, and his eyes are only barely open. His breaths are hoarse in his throat. Kame's arms drop and he drops to Jin's lungs, both of them oofing, and Jin starts to giggle like a frog, all throaty. 

Then, he puts his hand to the back of Kame's head and Kame feels, for the first time in some time, content. 

“You know what I think?” Jin says, a little while later, when they've recovered their energy and Kame is starting to worry about who, exactly, they've woken up.

He doesn't want to know what Jin thinks. But he asks, anyway. So Jin replies, his English as bad as it ever was:

“Team Rocket just blasted off at the speed of light.”


End file.
